


Chantilly

by TrekFaerie



Series: Spaghetti Threesomes [5]
Category: Django Unchained (2012)
Genre: Curtain Fic, Domestic, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 06:30:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrekFaerie/pseuds/TrekFaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A move to Indianapolis, and nosy neighbors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chantilly

It was a two-story house made of mostly wood, with a front porch outside but no furniture inside, but if you'd ask Hildy, she had just moved into the White House. It was a nice enough house, compared to the ground they had been living on for so many months, even though it leaned a little bit on its neighbors-- who, Django had quickly discovered, were all black. They had somehow managed to find a house in the only black neighborhood in Indianapolis, so the only one getting weird looks was Schultz. He seemed to take it in great stride.

Hildy seemed to glide across the floor, gears whirring behind her eyes as she imagined what her home would look like, what she could make it become. "I want curtains." Hildy's voice was strong but her eyes were wide, as if she were just suddenly realizing that, yes, she could have anything she wanted. "Lace ones."

"From Belgium." Schultz took her hand and pulled her into an impromptu waltz, moving across the room to a hummed tune. "Imported. I'll order it myself."

A gaggle of young boys were peering in through the windows, having gathered on the porch to spy on their strange new neighbors. Django gave him his meanest look and watched them scatter like birds. "Until we get those curtains, all of us gotta remember where we're at, now," he said, eyes fixed out the window. People kept walking by much more often than they really needed to. "We're not in the woods no more; this is a city. And city people love talkin'."

"You're quite right, Django." Schultz parted from her with much (partially) affected guilt. "I suppose we must get our stories in order! You two, of course, will be playing the role of the loving married couple."  


Hildy smiled. "That's not playin'," she said, slipping her hand in Django's and trying to move him away from the window.

"Of course, my own role is somewhat more difficult to define. There's hardly many reasons why an aged white man would be cohabiting with a beautiful young couple." He pulled at his beard in thought. "Our neighbors would be right to be suspicious."

They were, of course. The adults whispered constantly, and the children busied themselves with making up taller and taller tales about the newcomers. By the end of the week, they had gone from runaway slaves to stagecoach robbers to convicted murderers hiding from the hangman's noose. It was all getting quite out of hand.

Hildy was the one who solved it. She and Schultz were at the general store, buying staple food to fill their new pantry and icebox, when she abruptly switched from German to English, practically mid-sentence. "Uncle, can you reach the flour?" she said, deliterately raising her voice just high enough that the teenaged shopgirl, who had been trailing them around the store for more than ten minutes, could hear. When they left the store, the girl left too, probably running off home to tell her mother. Within the day, the entire street knew.

And that was the way it was. When they were outside, Hildy and Django would call Schultz "Uncle," and let their neighbors come up with their own meanings. But inside, they would kiss, and dance, and share a bed at night. Away from the windows and with the curtains (lace, from Belgium) closed, of course.

**Author's Note:**

> i am gonna be real happy when i get to the part where i can use chapters
> 
> real happy


End file.
